


I'm Okay

by selfappointedjudgesjudge



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, MCR, Mental Health Issues, Other, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Slice of Life, emo as shit my guys, my chemical romance - Freeform, takes place somewhere around three cheers era i guess idk maybe, this is not a happy fic but it might have a happy ending who knows, three cheers for sweet revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 05:19:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7605088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfappointedjudgesjudge/pseuds/selfappointedjudgesjudge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was like some fucked up story of Jesus Christ himself, where I took on the sins of many and healed the hoards of young minds... But being only human instead of half-God, I couldn't take the heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Transferring over, I write/wrote stories on Rockfic for a while, finally found my login info for here.
> 
> I've been dealing with some really bad depression/anxiety duo lately but finally felt a pull to do something creative so this is one of my ways of coping. Because of the fact that my depression/anxiety is so bad, I cannot guarantee a very scheduled manner of updating, though I do plan to and hope to update halfways regularly until this fic is completed.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated :)
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: No offence is meant toward any of the names mentioned and if any of the mentioned people would like this to be taken down, I will.

Another night, another day, another song, another show, another blast, another meeting, another hour of lecturing. It was all the same and I wasn't sure I saw a point. Things were all so bleak and my head was a disaster. It wasn't like I actively wanted to kill myself, but I didn't see much point in being alive. Sure, we had the fans, the guys and girls that came out to every show and screamed along with me to words of heartbreak and alluded-to death. They came in with scars on their wrists and dark eye-makeup to be healed by us glorious bastards on stage.  
  
It was ironic sort of, how we, how I could supposedly be some sort of saviour while I myself was falling apart and dying. Surely they could see it, I know they could. I was practically falling down with one show, slurring with another, and losing my pants with the last. It was like some fucked up story of Jesus Christ himself, where I took on the sins of many and healed the hoards of young minds... But being only human instead of half-God, I couldn't take the heat.  
  
That said though, I always had alcohol. The poison that turned my sins into miracles and cleansed my body like holy water through my veins. Everything was better drunk. Whether food or party, alcohol made the acrid taste of life seem like some Goddamn trifle. Sweet and soft, filled with sugar-laden jellies and creams... It was beautiful.  
  
I couldn't remember what day it was exactly, but it was one of those days where the voices both inside my head and outside were exceptionally loud.  
  
"Gerard, you need to start taking better care of yourself!"  
  
_I don't deserve to live anyway... What's the point...?_  
  
"Gerard! If you don't stop soon you're gonna get yourself killed!"  
  
_Ha!_ I thought, _If only I could._  
  
I drowned them out with a bottle of Jack, forgoing the faux-crystal glasses and drinking the shit straight from the bottle. It wasn't long before I was singing a different tune. With the voices in my head dulled and nobody seeming to bother with lecturing me anymore. I was too far gone for their words to mean anything anyway.  
  
I danced through the trailer, singing loudly and unable to make heads or tails of the looks I was getting. Was it pity? Was it disappointment? Joy? Who knew? Better yet, who cared? The guys humoured me for a while before I took off to explore outside, the ceiling in the trailer was distracting me. The popcorn ceiling had me transfixed for five minutes too long. I wanted to have fun, not stare at the damn ceiling.  
  
Frank and Mikey, bless their souls, came with me. Frank toted along a camera for some reason, Mikey had had a bit to drink too, but claimed to want to make sure I "didn't fall into traffic". I was touched, and quick to squash the voice in my head that berated me for making my little brother look after me.  
  
I didn't go too far from the trailer, just out to the edge of the parking lot. A grin on my face, I spun circles around the grassy area.  
  
"The hills are alii--iive with the sound of muu--uusic!"  
  
Mikey laughed like a lunatic as I fell to the ground, quickly offering his hand to haul me up.  
  
"Hey, Gee, what... What do you think of going to the, uh, the park? We can.. Um..." He trailed off after I was on my feet, mumbling something about monkeybars.  
  
Frank cut in before I could speak.  
  
"Neither of you are going anywhere. Let alone somewhere you can terrorize small children."  
  
Mikey pouted, seeming to have been really set on getting away from the trailer.  
  
"Gerard... What are you doing?" Frank asked after a moment of comforting my brother, I think there'd been a promise of going later, presumably after we had sobered up a bit and there was less a chance of running into kids.  
  
I plopped my ass down on the grass rather unceremoniously. The sky was spinning. I was giggling like a fucking dumbass.  
  
"Just.. Just gotta sit for a minute. It's okay."  
  
Frank heaved a sigh. "Mikey, get back to the trailer and make sure Gerard's got some clearance, okay? I think it's time for an afternoon nap."  
  
Mikey shrugged, adjusted his glasses and swayed his ass back toward the trailer after a moment of wondering at me.  
  
"I'm not tired." I mumbled, wiping shakily at my face. "I'm fine out here."  
  
Frank sighed, plopped his camera on the ground and came over to where I sat. I grumbled quietly to myself at how he was ruining my buzz.  
  
"You know this isn't okay, right?"  
  
I huffed. "It's _okay_." I muttered. " _I'm_ okay. Even if it weren't, I wouldn't wanna talk about it."  
  
That got me a sidelong glance. I looked the other way, pouting now since his bad mood was ruining my good one. Frank sighed again, seeming to recognize that he wasn't going to get anywhere with me. I just sneered at some innocent patch of dandelions, not even looking up when I felt a body flop down next to me. We sat like that for ages, completely silent. My thoughts were starting to bubble up to surface again. I stared at the dandelions until my fucking eyes burned. It was this kind of shit I couldn't stand. I hated thinking. That was why I drank. That was why I popped pills. That's why blah blah blah. What I did didn't matter, it was just the fact that it numbed me. That's all that mattered.  
  
I jumped when I felt a hand on my knee. Looking over I saw Frank looking at me with this sort of concern in his eyes.  
  
"I'm fine." I muttered, looking away again, hating the fact that the panic was starting to set in.  
  
He didn't press matters and I didn't know whether or not it was a good thing. I zeroed in on a pile of dog shit a foot or two away, staring at it and thinking about how much I felt like it related to me. An insentient pile of shit. I was just crawling through the bowels of earth and hell and awaiting the final end where I'd decay away into nothingness... Or maybe I was already decaying. That would explain the state of my head. Nothing made sense but there was an overwhelming sense of hopelessness, a sadness I hadn't ever seen any other human being capable of feeling.  
  
"Gerard?"  
  
I flinched, a feverish feeling coming over me as I glanced over at my friend.  
  
Funny I could call him my friend though, there were days I doubted it. There were days I doubted whether any of the guys were my friends.  
  
Oh for fuck's sakes, I didn't want to think about this. I needed another drink, I was feeling way too sober.  
  
"Gee..." The tone was softer, Frank's head tipped a little so to try and meet my gaze.  
  
"I'm okay..." I repeated numbly, trying to look away. Trying to hide. I felt hot. My eyes burned. Maybe I was still drunk. Maybe that was why I was such a wreck. Maybe I'd gone too far and had gone from the happy drunk to the crazy drunk that went from fighting everyone to gushing over so-and-so's cute heels to bawling in the bathroom mirror in 0.26 seconds.  
  
A warm, roughened grip closed in on my chin. I was forced to meet Frank's gaze. My eyes burned. I needed to blink, but if I blinked I knew I'd cry. I swallowed thickly, staring blindly. If I moved my eyeballs in even the slightest, I knew I'd fucking cry. I didn't want to cry. I wanted to feel good again. My nostrils flared, my lips twitched, my thoughts were racing.  
  
"Gerard... You know I'd never ask you to do something that made you uncomfortable, right?"  
  
I didn't answer, too afraid of croaking. God I wanted a drink. I felt like I was being interrogated.  
  
"But I really want to know what's up with you..." Frank paused, letting go of my face. "Everyone's so worried. You understand that right? Like, we get having a good time, but this is just plain insanity. We really care about you, man..."  
  
I finally scoffed, glaring at him.  
  
"Worried?" I rasped, "You're fucking worried? About what? I'm fucking fine, like I keep telling you. Butt out already."  
  
Frank's eyes widened, a look of shock going over his face before that irritating soft look came back. He put his hand on my shoulder, turning me to him again. I wanted to fucking punch him. The only reason why I didn't was because of the tiny other voice that sang away at the back of my mind. Maybe he really did care. He was supposed to be my friend after-all.  
  
We sat another while in silence. I had no idea how much time had passed. I didn't care to look at my watch either, I just kept glaring. Frank acted like he didn't notice, that or he didn't care. How anyone could be so dense or carefree was beyond me. Did other people not have a constant squabbling of nasty thoughts going through their head? Did other people not think about every-fucking-thing that was wrong with them ever waking moment of every day? Well, obviously not, but still.  
  
I was broken out of my thoughts yet again by a nudge to my side.  
  
"Smoke?" Frank asked, nodding toward the pack in the hand he'd nudged me with.  
  
Warily, I took one, fighting to get my lighter out of my pocket before lighting it. No doubt he had some ulterior motive. He had to. I watched him out of the corner of my eye for a while, wondering for a minute whether Mikey would come back looking for us. I thought too about the show we had tomorrow, wondering whether the guys in charge would try and force me to do it sober. Whether or not there'd be a fight again. I sighed heavily, not unaware of Frank's uneasy glance over. I was still ignoring him, smoking away and looking anywhere but at him.  
  
Lo and behold though, he called my attention to him... Again.  
  
"What is it this time?" I grumbled, thankful that my voice didn't shake as much. I still felt like crying but it wasn't as close this time.  
  
Frank gave an uneasy smile.  
  
"Wanted to know if you wanted to go to the bar. Sitting in the parking lot's fun n' all but..."  
  
I squinted at him. "Weren't you trying to convince me not to drink a minute ago?" I asked, resisting the urge to stub my cigarette out on the palm of my hand as I'd taken to doing when in private.  
  
Frank shrugged. "I'd rather you didn't drink _as much_ , but maybe we can both go out n' have a good time. Might even make a fucking smile come to your face."  
  
I doubted that and was still uncertain.  
  
"What's the catch?" I asked, still thinking he had some ulterior motive. Honestly, he had to. There was no way.  
  
"No catch." He tried to assure me. "Just wanna have a good time."  
  
I looked him over once or twice more before shrugging. "Sure I guess."  
  
Grinning, Frank got to his feet and offered me his hand. It took a couple tries, I was still unsteady, but eventually I was up and wiping the bits of grass off my ass. Frank went over and grabbed his camera, sticking it in his coat pocket. He waved me over, grinning up at me as we shrugged off to go out on the town. No doubt I still swayed a bit, but I still felt unbearably sober. I was still thinking too much. Thinking about what good could possibly come from this. Thinking about what Frank could possibly be trying to get from this. What could happen after. Would we both get in shit? Or would I get double the shit under an assumption of talking Frank into it?  
  
Surely to God though this wouldn't turn into a complete disaster though... Right?


End file.
